


I'll Be Damned

by coldfusion9797



Category: Tombstone (1993)
Genre: Canonical Character Death, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-18
Updated: 2018-01-18
Packaged: 2019-03-06 10:39:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,373
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13409496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/coldfusion9797/pseuds/coldfusion9797
Summary: Wyatt only ever cared about one person he didn't share blood with. And he'll do what he has to to make sure they meet again.





	I'll Be Damned

**Author's Note:**

> Tombstone is my all time favourite movie. Dunno what this is, but I wrote it so I'm posting it. Enjoy.

Wyatt had cared for precious few people in his life. His family, a small handful of friends, a long dead wife. And none of them had ever stirred him the way Doc did.

He'd loved Urilla, but that had been with the eager clumsiness of a young man barely left boyhood, before he had known the true meaning of hardship and sacrifice. Regard and loyalty. The man he sat with now, the one he called his very best friend, was in fact the only friend he had left. That fact didn't bother him, because Doc was in actuality the only one he'd ever _needed_.

  
It broke his heart to see Doc like this, bedridden and helpless, because he knew how much Doc hated it, how much he'd wanted to die on his feet.

  
It was inevitable though, Doc was unbeatable. No man could best him, so it was his vices that got him. Death was what he'd sought and in the end, Doc himself was the only man equal to the task.

  
"Wyatt, if you ever had any regard for me, you'll leave now."

  
He did, he does, he thinks the world of Doc and won't deny him this final dignity. In a way, they've already had more time on this Earth than either of them ever deserved.

  
He has to walk away now, he knows he does, but he can't go without letting Doc know the depth of his feelings. They're both already damned ten times over, one more sin added to the pile won't matter, at any rate neither of them ever believed they'd be going anywhere other than straight to hell.

  
Wyatt slips the volume into Doc's hand and stands.

  
This is it, their last meeting on the mortal plane.

  
Wyatt has to go, needs to tear himself away, for Doc, because he asked. They stare at each other taking one last fill, each making one last memory of the man that mattered most. The only other one who ever understood.

  
There's nothing left to say, Wyatt's never been one much for words anyway, certainly didn't have a way with them like Doc.

  
A faint smile tugs at his lips, Doc was the only one that ever managed to pull a genuine one from him, one that felt natural, one that didn't feel like a betrayal by his face.

  
This is it, the final moment, he should make it count. Somehow show Doc that knowing him was the greatest gift he ever received.

  
"Wyatt, you look like you're about to burst."

  
"Aw hell Doc," he sighs, because... well because everything. He loves this man and he doesn't want to say goodbye but he has to.

  
That thing. He should do that thing now before it's too late. Before his courage falters. Doc's the only reason he's got any left at this point anyway.

  
He leans down and brushes his lips over Doc's. They are cool and still, and the contact only lasts a moment before he straightens back up.

  
Doc stares up at him, considering, thoughtful, all Wyatt can do is allow the smile that's tugging at his lips to bloom. This is all he had left to give to Doc, a dying man, his best friend, the most singular and extraordinary person he has ever known.

  
For once in his life Doc is lost for words and looks puzzled by the fact. Not by the kiss, but the lack of reply.

  
"You don't have to say anything, Doc. I just wanted you to know."

  
Doc, who is barefoot on his deathbed, manages a smile. Considering the cause, it is the best thing Wyatt's ever seen.

  
"See you in Hell, Wyatt."

  
He gives Doc's hand a final squeeze.

  
"I'm counting on it."

  
Then he relinquishes his grip on the man in this life time.

  
And when Wyatt walks away, it's into a life of sin. He wants there to be no mistake that Hell is exactly where he belongs.

\---

  
Wyatt had never been afraid of death, especially not his own, and with the moment upon him, he will embrace it with open arms.

  
Wyatt knew the exact moment he'd lost his faith, it was when Urilla had heaved her last breath, taking his unborn child with her into death. Pinpointing the moment he gained it back couldn't be done with such precision. He knew the reason why, but not the precise moment it had happened.

  
The reason was Doc. There was no logical reason they should have been friends. Doc was a gambler and a killer. He had no regard for the law, the very code which Wyatt's existence was ruled by. Doc was showy, an exhibitionist even, Wyatt hated being in the limelight, his own fame was an unfortunate, albeit sometimes useful, consequence of the uncompromising life he'd led.

The only reason he could think of for their friendship was that some deeper part of themselves, something unhindered by logic and reason, spoke to each other. That their souls were in commune as it were.

  
Not that he didn't like Doc, because he did, very much so, but that didn't eliminate the fact that his affection for the gunslinger was illogical. And now, half a lifetime later, those feelings hadn't wavered. That devotion was still there.

  
He'd spent the the last forty years living in sin with a woman. The only person he could stomach after knowing John Holliday, because she was courageous and daring and didn't care which rules she broke.

  
They spent their time in gambling halls and at the racetrack, living in hotels, indulging in room service, doing any extravagant thing they could think of. All financed by the saloons in San Francisco and Nome, and the horses in San Diego, profiting every which way they could from the many vices of men.

  
In all those years he'd spent traipsing around those cowpoke towns, associating with thieves and killers, never even once did he get grazed by a bullet. It took eighty years for death to finally catch up with him and that was no accident. The devil had been willing to wait for him, because the greater torment came from carrying on alone, even the fire and brimstone doesn't sound so bad when he knows Doc's gonna be there to face it with. There'd never been anything they couldn't handle if they took it on together.

Doc's already been on the other side for forty years, but then he always knew how to handle himself far better then Wyatt ever did. Had a more convincing poker face, and buckets full of grit. He doesn't fear too much for Doc, Doc's much too easy to get along with, he's probably perched up next to old Lucifer himself, sharing a smoke and discussing the finer points of debauchery. Educated sinners. Able to appreciate the subtleties and nuances of pain in a way simpler folk never could.

  
Wyatt himself couldn't give a good, great fuck whether he's remembered, but he wanted the world to know Doc Holliday. To never forget how audacious he was. How daring, and canny, and slick. And their stories were so intertwined he's used his fame to harness Hollywood, helped produce motion pictures to assure their immortality. It's brazen and larger than life. He thinks Doc would've liked that.

  
These and more, are the reasons Wyatt's not afraid to die. Truth be told he's been looking forward to it for decades and it's only stubbornness that stayed his finger from the trigger of his own pistol, he'd never been one to back down, no reason a little thing like Doc dying should alter the finer points of his character.

Life was granted man to be suffered through, and he'd done his fair share of that. He can imagine how riled Doc would have been by him showing up a few decades too early anyhow.  
_Now Wyatt what'd you have to go and spoil my fun for? You know you're a good influence on me..._

  
So when the end finally comes, and there's not another breath to be had, Wyatt welcomes it. He slips willingly into the cold embrace of death, with one thing on his mind. His friend Doc Holliday. _Soon we'll meet again..._


End file.
